The Second Uprising
by icuSTALKER
Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark's home is peaceful until some new friends are thrust into their world and an unexpected enemy rises to power. Can the new formed group manage to defeat the new president? Heroes of Olympus and Hunger Games characters. Rated T for some violence.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One, Katniss

It starts again.

Another nightmare.

I am running. Snow is lunging for me, rasping out my name. He sounds like those lizard green mutts. _Katniss._ Blood trickles down his lips, down his cheek toward his rose lapel. The rose is white, white as snow, half wilted. The blood drips down on it and at the first touch, it turns the white rose dark red. I can smell him. His familiar menacing smell. It suffocates me and I gasp for breath. A burning District Twelve lies right beneath my feet, making me want to cry out. Prim and Finnick's deaths seem fresh, and I want to lie down. I want to give up…

Snow is over me. He has something in his hands. The berries. He has the berries in his hand. But his face doesn't look like Snow's anymore. It looks like Gale, who looks concerned. Bewildered, he drops the berries, but as soon as he does, his face begins to melt away. But it doesn't melt away into wax; when the top of his head is gone, all I see are tracker jackers, devouring his face bit by bit, tearing it carnivorously into shreds. I scream and scramble to my feet. The ground opens up beneath me and I fall. I fall, my mouth strangely mute. My brain is blank. And I fall.

With a final scream, I bolt upright, my eyes closed and my hands groping.

It's cold.

I know Peeta has left the windows open again. A cool night breeze swirls in, slipping under my blankets and crawling up my clothes onto my skin. I shiver, holding out my hands and grasping for Peeta's warmth. I search blindly, yet intently, for his touch, the touch that will calm me down. Another breeze makes me shudder and my name hisses in my mind. _Katniss._

"Shut up," I tell it, still blind. My voice is a hoarse whisper, and a lump lodges in my throat. I hear crickets chirping, leave rustling, the wind whistling. And finally, Peeta's steady breathing. Involuntarily, I let out a sigh of relief, and flop back on the bed, feeling ridiculous that I'm relieved. _I'll always be safe_, I remind myself. _Peeta will always be here. The boy with the bread is still here._

Having reassured myself, I find Peeta's hand and press it against my cheek. Blissful warmth flows through and I give a sigh.

I feel Peeta's body shift. His breathing takes on a faster pace. "Katniss?"

I don't respond, praying he'll go back to sleep. But some part of me wants him to wake up. I want to talk to him. I want his comfort.

He knows I'm awake and I feel him turn over. My eyes open; I find myself staring into blue eyes once again, etched with worry, but ones that know they're safe.

"Katniss," he repeats.

I sigh. "What?"

"Don't play that game with me."

"I don't play games."

"You are."

"Am not."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Then why are you playing the arguing game?"

I give him another sigh, more exasperated. "Go back to sleep." I let go of his hand, barely realizing I've been holding it, and turn my back to him, indicating he should go to sleep.

He knows I can't do it. "Katniss…"

"What?" I answer, frustration creeping up in my tone. I scowl at myself. "What now, Peeta?"

"Go back to sleep."

Retching at his attempted ironic humor, I toss over again, glaring at him. His eyes are still open, and I can see he's trying hard to suppress a smile.

"Not funny," I snap. I want to slap that hint of a grin off his face but my hands stay at my side.

"Who said it was?" he asks.

Another scowl is my answer, and I curl up next to his chest, feeling it go up and down. Up and down. Up and down. "You forgot to close the windows."

"I was hot."

"You _were_," I say. "And I'm cold."

"Well, what do you have blankets for?"

"Go close the windows."

"You're the one who's cold. You go do it."

I give him a glare but he doesn't back down. "I'm not the one who opened them."

"I opened them because it was getting hot in here," he replies.

"But now it's cold."

"If you think so, go close the windows."

I hear a _creak_. "You left the door open, too, didn't you?"

His shoulders lift up and roll back down. "Maybe."

"Peeta," I whine.

"Katniss," he imitates.

"You sound like Haymitch."

"You complain like Effie," he shoots back.

"Go close the door _and_ the windows."

"_You_ think it's cold. You go do it."

"Be a gentleman."

"You're supposed to be a lady."

I feel my face flush. I'm tired of this conversation. "Fine. I'll go close them." I grab a thin shawl that I left on the floor and wrap it around my shoulders. As I exit the room, I hear Peeta chuckling softly. I hear the bed creak as he turns to go back to sleep.

I make it to the door, where it's swinging with an eerie creak. The hinges are rusted. I hear Haymitch snore in the living room. I stare at the door. Images of tracker jackers, mutts, fire, and guns fill my mind. I see Prim's death. I see Rue with the spear in her stomach. I see Peeta hitting the force field, Finnick reviving him. Screams echo in my mind.

I blink, and it all disappears. With trembling hands, I close the door, then make a round trip through the house to shut the windows. The wind stops and the crickets are silent.

Tears blur my eyes.

And I run to the room before my children can hear my choked sobs.

Like it? PJO comes later in the story. They're not here yet. No, I don't write like Suzanne Collins but sometimes I wish I did. Keep in mind this: I don't own the books. I borrowed them and read them, and then I gave them back. So all the information about the Hunger Games trilogy I have in this story have been stored in my memory. If I get something wrong, please tell me so I can fix it :D.

Peace out.

Jazzy


	2. Chapter 2

Oh wow XD Didn't expect review to be that fast :P

Isabella Katniss Haha thanks so much!

123awesome Holy Styx, thank you! I'm glad you like it And why do I keep getting the feeling I know you? o.O LOL XD

**Author's Note: I'm fairly new to so this took a while for me to upload. I also have one more chapter written after this and then my posts will be much slower :P If the Fanpop guys haven't told you yet, I'm a huge procrastinator o.O**

**Enjoyyy! :D**

Chapter Two, Percy

_Coaching lesson. Breathe in, breathe out. Shoulder tense, legs ready to spring. Sword raised, kept on balance. Hair removed from face, relaxation, and fight smart, not hard. Senses alert and –_

"Perseus Jackson!"

Percy allowed his eyes to open and rolled to the side as a hellhound barreled right through where he was standing. He could feel the hellhound's hatred as it ran right through like a freight train. Spitting dust out of his mouth, he scrambled to his feet, thankful he didn't impale himself with his own sword. Man, that would be embarrassing.

He felt his wrist bone crack as he stretched it and raced towards the brunt of the fighting. _Karpoi _ lunged at him. They became Raisin Bran. Enemy centaurs turned to dust. Dracaena became puddles. Titans were losing their aura.

On their side: demigods were falling. Several were dead already and Frank was injured. He sat down on the sidelines as best as he could, bandaging his leg, but it wasn't long until some _anemoi thuelloi_ leapt out of the shadows for him. Percy saw Clarisse trip and get swarmed by monsters in the next two seconds. Larry yelled as an Earthborn tried to strangle him. If you so much as stumbled, your life would be close to ending. Real close.

It was a better fight than most.

"PERCY!"

He blinked and looked over, annoyed. "_What_?"

Annabeth scowled and said, "Pay attention! Leo yelled your name five times; we're going for the Fort."

"The Fort?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her. "A little bold, don't you think?"

"Of course," she replied tautly, her face grim. "We're demigods, Kelp Head."

"Since when did you start calling me Kelp Head?"

"Since Thalia recorded you slapping kelp in your hair."

"It felt good!"

She sighed and pulled out her Yankees cap, wringing it nervously. "Just stay focused and follow Jason's lead. You'll know what to do when the time comes."

"What?"

But she ignored him, put on the cap, and vanished like a mist. Percy felt himself being prodded and swore. He wanted to complain at Annabeth, but figuring there was no use, he sprinted up the hillside to his destination: Olympus. The _original_ Olympus, right here, in Greece, Mount Olympia.

He groaned, trying to keep Jason, Piper, Hazel, and Leo in sight, all of whom were already near the top. Oh wait, no. They had reached the top, and were now standing and waving their arms. He couldn't tell if they were screaming or no; probably not, since they were trying to sneak up on Gaea on Olympus. She'd somehow taken over the place and this was it. This was the battle where she'd finally root it up, destroying gods, awakening, and torture demigods in her supposed kingdom-to-come.

_What a hayride_, Percy thought. He kept going, tapping the pen cap to the tip of his sword. The thing shrunk, but he didn't put it in his pocket. He held onto it, just in case he needed to make a quick slash-and-you're-gone ninja style move.

"Percy!"

His thought: _Oh, Hades, WHAT NOW?_

There was Frank, scratched and beat up, but still alive. He was limping ever so cautiously, the _anemoi thuelloi's_ marks left clearly on him. A sight to behold.

"Percy," he gasped. "Wait."

"Frank?" Percy asked him. "What the heck are you doing, hiking up a mountain when you're injured?"

"I'm coming with you." The son of Mars replied so defiantly and bravely, Percy felt ashamed that he was compelled to laugh.

"No," Percy said. "You should go back. Get rested and at least get ambrosia so that leg can heal."

"I'm coming with you."

"Hey-"

"Percy."

Percy met his eyes and a sudden understanding washed over. Frank was scared. He was scared, but he wanted to do something that would make his life worthwhile. Percy laughed quietly. Didn't they all?

"All right," he agreed. "Let's go kick some immortal butt."

They reached the top.

Percy was breathing hard, but it wasn't because going up was a long hike. It was because Frank leaned on him about seventy-five percent of the way. Percy didn't mind that Frank was bulky, but he was ready to collapse. So did Frank.

Annabeth was already there, frowning. Perfect.

Frank dragged in air. "Thanks, man."

Even though he was worn out, Percy managed to say, "No problem."

Jason was crouching next to a pillar, his face full of so much concentration, Percy feared his head might explode. With all that was going on, it might.

Finally, Jason made some confusing motions with his hands.

Percy was frustrated. He still couldn't believe what had happened a couple days ago. The explosion. The blinding flash, deafening roar. The entire mess. And the result was a demolished pastry building, a few slayed monsters, and a mute Jason. Even though Chiron had proclaimed that it wasn't permanent, Jason still wasn't showing any signs of recovery. Now he used sign language and Annabeth was the only one who could understand. Even though she had taught Percy the most important signs, such as the one Jason had just done, he couldn't comprehend what the son of Jupiter wanted to say. He felt bad, because the reason Jason was temporarily mute was because he had stayed in the store too long to help them escape. The least Percy could do was try to understand him.

"What?" Percy queried, finally finding his own voice.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Somnus, Percy, you're dense."

"Hey!"

"Is for horses," Leo responded.

"Lame, Leo," Piper said.

"Huh."

"The point Jason is trying to make," Annabeth said, "is that Kronos is in the throne room, keeping watch while Gaea is uprooting the gods."

More sign language motions.

"In a nutshell," Annabeth added.

"Fun," Leo said.

"Yeah, I got that he's in there," said Percy. His back felt ready to implode. "But I thought he was buried when we collapsed the Acropolis on him." Realizing what he just said, he instinctively clapped a hand over his mouth.

Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "You did _what_?"

"Smooth, Percy," Leo coughed.

Percy felt his face heat up. "You could've helped."

"Perseus Jackson!"

Percy flinched at his full name. Especially when Annabeth said it. "I think that's the second time you've used my full name today."

"You destroyed the Acropolis-"

"For a good reason!"

"-which damaged a thousand year old structure-"

"Out with the old and in with the new?"

"-and all to crush a stupid Titan so he would just come back, even more replenished!"

"We stalled him!"

Annabeth stomped her foot, clearly angry. Jason frowned and made more motions.

"Fine!" Annabeth practically shouted at him. She stormed toward the entrance of Olympus. "Let's smash a Titan." And she left.

Jason made a sign that clearly meant, _Busted._

Percy scowled at him, and for the first time since the explosion, Jason smiled. Then he went after Annabeth.

Silence for a moment among the remaining five demigods. Then Frank remarked, "I agree with Jason. You are _so-o_ busted."

Percy groaned and scrambled to the one building that, if fallen, could destroy the whole world.

He'd only seen the original Mount Olympus once before this, but it wasn't at all like it was now. For one, half of the once magnificent structure was demolished, leaving the thing looking like a dump with one side standing and the other side toppled on it like dominos. Second, the marble columns, floors, and roof were spattered with blood, the blood of monsters, gods, demigods, and mortals alike. Not only that, but it was glowing with an eerie red color, bathed in crimson as though washed in new paint.

And before this, it was so neat and shiny that a crow would land on it and try to peck the gleam out.

Now there was smoke billowing out the top.

He could hear Frank swearing and groaning as he tried his best to follow without leaning on someone. Well, that lasted about two seconds and he ended up leaning very heavily on Percy for support. Again. And Percy, being the good friend that he was, let him.

Hazel ignored a moaning Percy and a gasping Frank. "Well, here we are. Mount Olympus."

Compared to the battle noise that they had been in farther down the hill, the place was strangely quiet.

Piper shivered. "From the silence, you'd expect something to jump out at you."

"No kidding," said Leo. "But we'll be A-okay. No monster is gonna climb up this baby unless they want to faint." He smiled, but Percy noticed his hands trembling.

He traced a finger over a pillar and dust came off. "Let's go."

As he trudged up the glossy steps of Olympus, he heard Leo mutter, "I hope Kronos has cake for me to eat when I die."

Classic Leo.

"Percy, look out!"

Hazel's voice.

Percy ducked, as did the rest of the group, as a razor sharp disc flew over their heads. If they hadn't moved, heads would be rolling.

"Oh, so it's booby-trapped," Leo said. _No, duh._

Percy blinked. It's booby-trapped…that means…

"Annabeth!" he said and suddenly he was plunging forward. He had done so many stupid things already, and he couldn't decide whether this was the stupidest or what. But he found it completely replenishing, his worry fueling him. He saw axes, swords, knives, machetes, and tacos – tacos? flying towards him at an alarming speed.

He had no idea what had happened by the time he reached the end of the magnificent marble hall. Everyone else was on the other side, looking nervous and staring at him. The floor was littered with all the weapons he had dodged, some still clattering and spinning.

He felt compelled to shrug and he did. "So? C'mon, guys."

They did so, and no weapons came springing out. Frank stumbled once and Percy saw him bite his lip to keep from crying out in pain.

Annabeth and Jason were, once again, ahead, waiting.

"Slow," said Annabeth.

"Speedos," said Leo.

"What the freak?" said Frank.

Jason looked peeved and made more motions. Annabeth turned red. "Am not!"

More motions.

"No. I am _not _repeating that."

Disgusted look from Jason.

Annabeth looked outraged. "Why, you-"

"Demigods!"

A chill ran Percy's back. He knew that voice. It sounded like knives scraping against a steel floor, nails screeching on a blackboard. He shivered and hissed, "Cover! Duck for cover!"

They did, diving behind pillars, weapons silently raised.

_Click. Click._

Boots clicking on floor.

"I know you're there." That same, bone-chilling voice. Percy felt himself pale, but get angry at the same time. "Jason Grace, Annabeth Chase, Leo Valdez, Piper McLean, Frank Zhang, Hazel Levesque-" he paused, "-and Percy Jackson. Congratulations, you made it this far."

Percy bit his lip to prevent a scathing reply. The result was smarting pain and a small withdraw of blood. He cursed silently in his head, not letting himself shift the slightest bit so as to set off any noise that may betray their positions.

Hazel was behind the pillar that was next to him. She mouthed, _What do we do?_

He risked making a small motion that meant, _Don't move._

She nodded.

Kronos's footsteps echoed. "Come now, demigods. I know you're there."

The footsteps ceased.

_CRASH!_

Percy saw Hazel clamp a hand over her own mouth and he had to admit, he jumped slightly at the sudden sound. His hands were curled around his pen tighter and he was ready to spring out when he heard a scream.

Piper's scream.

The back of his neck tingled, and he didn't think. He rolled out from behind the pillar just as it was blown to pieces. He felt himself being thrown, falling, rolling, hitting hard on the marble floor with such a jolting impact, he could've sworn he broke his back. Pillar fragments were scattered all along the ground, some pieces the size of dump trucks and some the size of marbles. Hazel's column had crashed as well, leaving her on her knees, coughing. Her _spatha_ was sheathed and she keeled over, clutching her stomach.

Percy felt his anger building like it would when his friends were hurt.

Kronos had Piper held tightly by the arm. She swore at him and struggled. Her companions, probably realizing they should do something, inched out toward the open, cautiously wielding their weapons.

The Titan laughed, a scary chilling sound. "Finally. The Heroes of Olympus come out of their holes."

"You call a pillar a hole?" asked Leo.

Kronos glared at him, and Leo's muscles went rigid. Percy double-checked to make sure…yep. He was frozen.

The Titan composed himself and his gaze swept through the entire group. He shook Piper teasingly, and Percy saw her pale. Probably from the lack of circulation from her arm. Golden eyes fell on Percy.

"Percy…Jackson." He said his name with malice.

Unable to control himself anymore, Percy stepped forward. "Why, you-"

It all happened so fast. First, he saw Annabeth cry out in warning. Then, Kronos's fist closed around Piper hard, too tightly for Percy's liking. Jason's eyes widened and he took a brief step forward before miraculously collapsing. And finally, Piper's outline glowed, and she disappeared in a golden flash.

Just like Percy's mom did.

Annabeth swore loudly in Ancient Greek.

For a second there, Percy could only stare dumbfounded at the spot where Piper had been. Then his rage grew. "What the h-"

Kronos looked at all of them calmly, icily, but Percy could've sworn he saw something else. Was that – no, it couldn't be. Did he really see confusion in those golden eyes?

Annabeth must've seen it too, because her fingers started twitching.

_Oh, man, she's cute_, Percy couldn't help thinking.

"Well," Kronos said, composing himself. "One less brat gone."

Percy had a feeling all their anger and shock snapped at once. Before he knew it, he was seeing Annabeth and her knife, Jason and his _gladius_, Hazel's _spatha_ wielded, Frank notching and arrow, and Leo swinging a hammer, with – TicTac's?

They all charged so quickly and in such a possessed way, he feared they all might crash into each other, which would do them absolutely no good. Instead, the thing he _least_ expected to happen happened.

It was as if the sun was in his eyes. He was blinded for a moment, his vision filled with dancing yellow, blue, and green spots. He felt himself falling, and his arms instinctively stretched out to break the fall. Yet he felt nothing beneath him to collapse on. A cold wind swept through, and he was spinning.

Spinning so fast, it made his stomach churn.

Then, he free fell.

His imaginary sun vanished like a bubble when you popped it, but he was too shocked to open his eyes. Head over heels, he tumbled through thin air. His sword was thrown free from him.

And he hit something.

It wasn't at all hard like he'd anticipated, but a soft landing, like drifting on a cloud. Grass was poking up in between his fingers. He heard buzzing, like a bee. His head felt ready to explode, his back ached, and he was sprawled out on grass. He smelled pine trees. A four note whistle echoed. His sword was gone.

And his eyes shot open.

His friends were there, groaning, looking like a giant had tossed them like trash. They were in a dried up glade, the sun peeking through the tree tops and coming down like long fingers. Pine trees surrounded them, and covered everything in sight. He heard a rushing creek. Dead leaves and green leaves were covering the ground and so were pine needles.

All six half-bloods sat up. Hazel clutched her head; Annabeth was dazedly searching for her knife. Frank gripped his stomach, and Jason was wearily clawing a tree to haul himself up. Leo staggered around and ran into a boulder. He bounced back like a boomerang and collapsed.

His insides wanted to jump out as Percy haggled to his feet. The world spun; the sun seemed cruel to taunt him now. His mouth was dry, he was hungry, and he had no idea what had happened.

All the demigods were on their feet soon enough. And all their looks, including Annabeth, reflected their fear and confusion. Dread weighed down in Percy's chest.

Percy didn't want to be the one to crush their smallest hopes anyways, but he said the words that felt like doomsday.

"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

**Thanks guys! :)**

**~Jazzy**


	3. Chapter 3

**This is the last chapter I had before I got on this website. After this, chapters will come more slowly because of procrastination AND I'm going to Germany! Yes! Happy :P**

**Last chapter before vacation :P**

Chapter Three

_Katniss._

"Sweetheart. Hey. Sweetheart."

There it is again. That same sickening smell hits my nose and I roll over, burying my face in the pillow. I _hate_ that smell and he knows it. Or maybe he can't remember because the thing boggled his memory. Again.

I know Peeta is already up, otherwise I know I wouldn't have the bed all to myself at the moment. My fingers curl around blankets and I moan in protest. I don't want to get up. I smash my face in more to block out the stench. It's not working.

I hear him take another swig, the burning stuff sloshing down his throat like there's no tomorrow. "Sweetheart!" His voice is more slurred and angry. I know it's coming.

_Thud._

This makes me bolt upright. I am tired; I know my eyes are puffy from last night, and goose-bumps run up and down my skin like leeches. I shiver and feel my spine tingle. And before me is a sight I can live without seeing.

Haymitch is on the floor, as though someone pushed him. He's face first, and I believe I hear a crack. Is his nose broken?

I jump off the bed in dismay, and put my hand on his neck. He's knocked out cold, hair falling in his face, the space around his lips soaked in vodka.

I back away in disgust and pull on some pants and a clean shirt. I smell bread baking in the kitchen. Raisin and nut bread. A flood of memories comes back and, determined to shrug it off, I walk into the kitchen, full of hunger. Peeta is putting a cloth away and he places his hand on the brink of the sink, watching them play outside.

Them. Our very own children.

I sigh quietly, and stand by Peeta. This is one of those moments where we just prefer to be quiet and let silence wash over the room like a flood.

"Nightmares?" he murmurs after a few moments.

I don't meet his eyes. "No."

"You're a horrible liar."

My cheeks flush. "Fine," I admit. "Maybe I did."

"I thought so." He turns toward the window, gazing gently at the grass and our children rolling in it.

I make a childish face at him because I know he does not see. If he does, he will laugh. Once I'm satisfied, I wrap my arms gently around his waist, burying my face into his warm chest. I had nightmares and they weren't fun. Peeta always seems to read my mind.

I hate it.

He touches my hand that's at his waist and a warm feeling spreads through me. I know if Haymitch were here and conscious, he would act disdainful and roll his eyes. Although it's mean, I'm grateful he is knocked out for the time being.

"Katniss," Peeta says.

"Yes?"

"What do you think they did with all the mutts and Snow's followers?"

I go silent. After we had settled down, Haymitch had told us Snow's followers and the mutts had vanished. We never spoke of it again, but Peeta and I always wondered.

"I don't know," I admit. I hate not knowing things. When you're oblivious, it's easy to be killed. "But I wish they had told us."

"Maybe it was best for the not to," he murmurs.

I let go of him and stare up, searching his expressionless face. "Not to tell us? Why?"

He sighs. "Katniss-"

"No," I snap. My voice has an edge to it, seeming to be able to slice through anything. I am angry. Not tell us? I am about forty. I'm not some childish cripple who can't handle anything. This reminds me of innocent Prim and sweet Rue, both of whom had died without having committed nothing wrong. I am not a child; I can take care of myself. No matter how hard I try to see Peeta's logic, I can't. "Peeta, we aren't children anymore. We don't need protection."

There is a tired, thin layer to his voice as he speaks. "Yes we do."

"We don't." My voice has risen higher; it is almost a shout. "Not after what we've been through, we don't. They can't expect us to be naïve after what happened."

Peeta senses my anger and his face loses some color. I know he is thinking of the war. "Look, we're only human, and we have a short life. We might as well try to live it in the purest way possible."

"We don't need to!" I am shouting now. "If most of the world's immorality, blood, hatred, and other dysfunctions have been exposed to us, a little more can't hurt! They can't hurt us any more than they already have!" My chest is rising and falling rapidly with each frustrated breath. I feel so much rage, I can almost imagine my eyes burning through anything. My hands are white and trembling; my body convulses uncontrollably like an unstable door.

"Katniss-" Peeta starts.

"Don't," I hiss. "Just don't."

He is quiet for a moment, considering how to handle my anger. Finally, he says, "I'm going to go help Haymitch get a bath."

I say nothing. He waits, maybe expecting me to say sorry, say okay, or even nod, but I don't. Which just proves how cold and heartless and stubborn I am. Peeta leaves and I hear his firm footsteps echoing, him walking to our room and lifting Haymitch up. Noises cease.

I am alone. The silence weighs down heavily, penetrating even the smell of the bread. Still fuming, I make my way outside, where I lean over the railing and watch them play.

Hyacinth and Ruen.

The names sound strange. Ruen, a toddler, stomps around, trying to see if his legs will still let him walk. Hyacinth, a young eight year old girl, pretending to act like Ruen's mother as all little girls did.

How little they know.

Hyacinth is learning about our history in her classes at school. She knows what Peeta and I have done. But I am grateful she does not have details. Her dress flounces as she spins and twirls, giggling and holding Ruen's hands as they whirl around. Ruen laughs uncontrollably, letting out hiccupping giggles as he plays along. A smile touches my lips but goes away almost immediately.

Gale was right. _She'll pick whoever she can't survive without. _Something like that. I'm cold, heartless, and will never be able to soften to my children's needs.

I turn around to watch the bread. If it burns, I won't hurt the end of it.

_Katniss._

I don't realize I am so wound up and I jump at the hissing of my name. Without knowing it, I reach for my bow, only to realize it's not there.

_Katniss._

"Curse you!" I scramble for the front door. I know my bow is hanging there; just as I'm about to reach it, an invisible force pushes my back. My stomach seems to cave in, like I had been given a hard packed punch to the gut. I gasp, and stagger back, feeling my head spin. The metallic taste of blood rises in my mouth and I hold my stomach with one hand and lean on a chair with the other. Through my hazy vision I see a shimmering figure, frowning at me. I see long black glossy hair, plaited in gold and lotus, and a white kind of dress, a tunic. I remember wearing a tunic some time before my first Hunger Games with boots and pants. Something like that.

The figure's frown deepens and when they speak, I know it is a girl. "Is that any way to treat a guest?"

"A guest who punched me," I say without thinking. Immediately I prepare myself for another punch. The woman laughs. I hate it. It sounds derisive, reserved, and snobby as though I am beneath her.

"I love how amusing you are, Katniss," she says. I don't say anything, mostly because I am thinking about ignoring her completely. She tilts her head, looking at me, expecting me to answer. I don't. "Well," she says. "Aren't you friendly." Figuring out I won't reply, she tosses her hair and huffs. "I suppose I must deliver the message, even to an incompetent brat like you."

I bite my cheek hard to keep from retorting. My mouth fills with more blood. I am thinking, _She's a Capitol lady or something._

The lady huffs and turns on a bright smile like a light switch as if I had never ticked her off. "Well, my dear, I just thought I'd warn you. Company awaits." She sighs and takes a seat at the kitchen table, though I had never invited her, and folds her hands. "You'll have more troubles coming up."

I don't know who this lady is, but I manage to get out, "I don't need any more trouble."

The woman laughs that annoying laugh again. "It is too late. Once they are here, war will brew again."

"What are you talking about?" I say. This must be a hoax; some oddly dressed lady showing up at my door, telling me my fortune. I look at my bow, black and dangerous, hanging on the wall. I want to run for it, but I'm frozen into place. I can't move, as hard as I try.

"That's better," she says dismissively and then gives a little jump with a squeal. "Oh, they're near! Better watch those children, Katniss!" Then just like that, she disappears. Right before my eyes.

I stare in disbelief at the chair for a moment, then shake out of my stupor. I bolt for my bow and sling it across my shoulder. I don't want any unexpected visitors.

"Mom! Mom!"

I recognize Hyacinth's scream anywhere. Normally, it is full of pain, like she runs and trips, but this time I sense fear in that one word. This makes me run faster, stumbling for the door. I know something is wrong; my senses tingle like crazy and I rip open the door.

The second I am on the porch, a huge mass of a person tackles me and pins me to the ground. My bow is thrown far, completely out of my reach. The smell of the forest hits my face harder than ever and I gasp.

"Don't move," the woman on top of me snaps. I see a gun at her belt; I recognize the suit she is in. The uniform that had not been seen for twenty years.

When had Paylor reinstated the Peacekeeper system? I struggle helplessly under the Peacekeeper, and I realize just how weak I am. Is this what the lady meant by 'they're near'? I realize just how stupid I was not to heed a message like that. Now I'm paying for it.

_Once they are here, war will brew again._

I curse myself for my foolishness and writhe underneath the Peacekeeper. Her grips tightens around my wrists.

"I said don't move," she hisses.

"Tenna!"

Annoyed, she twists her neck around as far as possible to a male Peacekeeper beckoning to her. "_What?_"

"Leave her. We got what we needed."

"What you needed?" I yell. I am so full of rage and fear that I am trembling. "What do you think you doing?" The woman, Tenna, I guess, snaps her head back to glare at me.

"Fine," she huffs and pushes herself off of me. Before I can move, she has a gun pointed at me. I don't get up.

"Tenna!" says the Peacekeeper. "Let her go and let's get moving!"

Snarling and giving me one last death glare, Tenna slams the gun back in her holster. My vision has turned hazy with confusion and anger. It's slowing me down and I stumble up groggily. I try to see my children, reassure myself they're okay. I see nothing in the spot where Hyacinth would spin and Ruen would squeak in joy. I see nothing but an empty grass patch and hear the roar of a helicopter.

"No," I murmur, staggering even under the support of the porch post. "No." My knees buckle and I crumple to the ground. The breath seems knocked out of me as the full realization hits me. They're gone. They're really gone. My children, taken by the Capitol. Just as I was before.

I don't remember when I doze off. Somehow I fall unconscious on the ground. My head is swirling of the lady's warning. _They're coming._

_Katniss._

_They're coming._

_Katniss…_

_They're coming._

_Katniss?_

_They're coming._

_Katniss!_

_Once they are here…_

_Katniss! NOW!_

…_war will brew again._

"KATNISS!"

I shoot up to my feet, scrambling for my bow, blinded by the fury and confusion that had been left behind before. My hands are raw, my stomach churning, my mouth is filled with the despicable taste of blood. I'm screaming hysterically, stumbling around. A steady arm grabs mine and I yell, kicking and struggling.

"Katniss! Stop that right now!"

I'm still fighting, beating the arm that holds me with my fists. "Let me go! You can't have them!"

"KATNISS!"

I feel myself hitting the post, silent, desperate tears streaming down my face. My body trembles; my head spins. My vision is slowly clearing and Peeta is standing there, breathing hard and bent over, clutching his right arm.

I find my voice. "Oh…oh Peeta I'm so sorry, I-" I cut myself off. What's the use of apologizing? Saying sorry won't help anything. It won't fix anything.

Peeta is wincing, looking at the bruises that line his arm. There are even claw marks. "First the shove into the urn and now this."

My cheeks burn at the reminiscence. "I said sorry."

"Well sorry doesn't fix much, does it? I accept your apology though."

I feel my face heating up more. He could read my thoughts, couldn't he? Was that it?

His hand finds mine, clutching it tightly. "Katniss, it'll be okay. We'll get them back."

I am shaking. "But why would Paylor do that?"

"I don't know," he says, shaking his head. "But they left a note." He gently puts a silky folded paper in my trembling hands. "Katniss…" he starts, and I know he sees that I am about to rip the stupid thing apart.

Taking a deep shaky breath, I unfold it, expecting it to explode any minute. It doesn't, and I wonder why I'm scared. It's a paper; it can't hurt me.

Until I read it.

_To: The Residence of Katniss and Peeta Mellark_

_From: The Capitol_

_Mockingjay. Uprising. President. Children. Execution. Arena._

_Sincerely,_

_PG_

This time, I rip the paper into pieces. Three pieces. Then I rip those into six pieces. And then–

"Katniss!" Peeta snatches the remainder of the letter from my hands and I react with a glare.

"She's going to kill them!" I insist. "She's going to kill them, in the arena, as an execution."

"The arenas were destroyed. Remember? She can't."

Tears run down my cheeks like rivers. "She could build new ones."

"Then it'll just be a plain arena. Not for the Hunger Games; never for the Hunger Games, Katniss."

I relax a fraction. "Then what? She's still going for an execution. Why would Paylor do that?"

Peeta studies a particular shred of the letter I ripped and says, "Does Paylor's last name start with a 'G'?"

"Probably," I say impatiently. I don't think through it now in the scrambled process of my brain. I want them back. They've been taken and I want them back. "I'm going to go get them."

"Wait!" He grabs my arm before I can stomp off. "What if it's a trick?"

"If it is, then they'll pay," I snap. "I thought our life would be easier once the Hunger Games were gone, but no. This just _had_ to happen didn't it?"

"Katniss, we're not the same we used to be. We haven't had practice in the field for years."

"You can still lift a hundred pounds of flour and I can still shoot!"

"But what about stealth? Herbs? Medicine? We're no longer experts in that because the Capitol has been supplying it for us. Face it. We got nothing."

The final realization that he might be right hits me. We have no expertise anymore. The book of herbs that was my father's has vanished. We know nothing. We wouldn't be able to survive, and if we did, our children wouldn't. I can still shoot but not as straight; I have not hunted for fifteen years for fear memories and nightmares will be more livid. Peeta still limps and will buckle under weight if he keeps throwing heavy objects around. Then we both will die. He is right. We have no chance.

And I just collapse right there. My body is rigid, the tears have all left me. I feel nothing but despair and hatred. It's happening all over again and I'm left as a shell, a hollow shell that wishes it could do something. Anything.

So Peeta and me just sit there on the yard, wishing we could do something. The day fades fast and twilight dawns.

I know we both wish we could do something.

I know we both want our children back.

I know we both are hating Paylor right now.

And I know we both jump when the flaming arrow hits the ground, two centimeters away from my hand.

**Tell me: good? Bad? Too fast? Too slow?**

**:) Thanks guys!**

**Peace out.**

**~Jazzy**


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